


Bingo Little's Magic Act

by abstractconcept



Category: Jeeves and Wooster
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-06 14:38:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/pseuds/abstractconcept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bertie finds himself stuck in Bingo Little's trick handcuffs, and it's up to Jeeves to rescue him.<a id="cutid1" name="cutid1"></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Bingo Little's Magic Act

**Author's Note:**

> A ficlet for tyleet27 on the prompt: Jeeves &amp; Wooster, magic. 1,600+ words.

_**Bingo Little's Magic Act**_  
**TITLE**: [Bingo Little's Magic Act](http://the-con-cept.insanejournal.com/359694.html?view=1619726#t1619726)  
**RATING:** R  
**DISCLAIMER:** Belongs to P.G. Wodehouse, various and sundry, but alas, not me.  
**NOTES: **A ficlet for tyleet27 on the prompt: Jeeves &amp; Wooster, magic. 1,600+ words.  
**SUMMARY:** Bertie finds himself stuck in Bingo Little's trick handcuffs, and it's up to Jeeves to rescue him.  
****

Bingo Little's Magic Act

It was all Bingo Little's fault; I rest the blame squarely on his shoulders. But for his insatiable need for fame and complete ineptness at achieving such, I never would have become a homosexual.

Ah, I've got your attention now, I see.

Yes, it was entirely Bingo Little's fault.

You see, time had come round again for another village sports day at Twing, and Lady Wickhammersley was looking for acts to entertain the troops, as it were. I don't know how she got a hold of Bingo, but he'd been gifted a set of magic tricks by his uncle and was dead bent on showing off his stuff.

Well, that would have been just spiffing if he was any jolly good with the thing, but he wasn't. He spent hours on end practising in front of the mirror or, when he could corner me, yours truly. Of course Jeeves kept me in gin, but even so it really was a bore.

Tuesday afternoon Bingo went into town to take Rosie to dinner, and he left his box of tricks in my care with the admonition to "Be a pal and take care of this, would you, Bertie? I can't let anyone else discover my secrets."

"But," I objected, "aren't you worried that I'll discover your secrets?"

Bingo laughed heartily. "No offence intended, old chum, but you couldn't magic your way out of a paper sack without Jeeves there to help you. Pip pip!" he added as he left.

Well. _That's torn it,_ I thought. Immediately, I opened the kit.

There were dozens of coloured handkerchiefs, shiny metal rings, a deck of cards and a pair of trick handcuffs.

After surveying the lot thoughtfully for several moments, I decided on the handcuffs. Bingo must have shown me that trick at least fifty times and it looked easy enough. I sat on the bed, snapped them on, and jangled them a bit.

So far, so good.

Only when I jangled harder, the way Bingo showed me, nothing seemed to happen. I tugged and twisted and shook the dastardly things, but they would not come off. Finally I hit upon the bright idea of levering them off with a foot, only I slipped and ended up with my wrists—still stubbornly attached together—stuck between my legs.

A little manoeuvring and I was able to get my hands out from between my legs, but now they were behind my back, and I could do nothing with them.

I tried my hardest to get loose, I really did. I writhed around on the bed grunting and whimpering, inching up to the headboard until I was squashed face-first against the wood. It was absolutely no good. I managed to roll over onto my back to find Jeeves had shimmered silently in and was watching me, eyebrows raised.

To his credit, Jeeves didn't even blink. "I apprehend you are in need of some assistance, sir?" he asked. He didn't for a moment think rabid pirates had broken in and tied me up for the purpose of getting me to tell where the silver was hidden, more power to him. No, his super-efficient brain had already worked the whole thing out.

"I don't like to admit defeat," I told him. Jeeves raised one eyebrow a little higher than the other.

"I do not think Mr. Little will be inclined to be charitable should he arrive and find you—like this," Jeeves noted.

"There's the rub," I sighed. "Damn and blast, he'll never let me live it down. Would you be so kind, Jeeves?" I asked, rolling over onto my stomach again to give the man better access.

To my surprise, Jeeves paused. "I might be so inclined, should there be minor recompense involved," he said after a long hesitation.

I frowned over my shoulder, squirming a little, flushed and panting. Jeeves watched me with an unnerving gleam in his eye. It was unlike the man to demand such things, but I wasn't in much of a position to argue. "Dash it all, I'll give you whatever you want. Get me out of here, man!"

"Just as you say, sir."

Jeeves sat beside me on the bed, resting his hands lightly on my shoulders. "Well?" I asked.

"You're very tense, sir. That does make slipping out of the handcuffs more difficult. I'll endeavour to assist in the muscle relaxation process." Well, that made sense, and Jeeves' talented hands massaging my shoulders felt tremendous. "And perhaps a few sips of brandy, sir?" he suggested. "Just the thing for helping one to become less tense."

"Too true!" Of course, Jeeves had to help me drink, but that was no matter. After a few moments, Jeeves continued his ministrations and had worked his way down my back. I was feeling the benefit and no mistake. In fact, I was drifting on a hazy, happy cloud, handcuffs or no handcuffs.

Then, to my mild shock, Jeeves began undressing me. "Wh--Jeeves, what--"

"I apologise, sir, but I doubt I'll be able to get the handcuffs past your sleeves or wristwatch."

This made sense, though it didn't quite explain why Jeeves was taking my trousers down. I watched in bemusement as I was carefully and gently undressed. No one will ever accuse Jeeves of having rough hands, that is a certainty. By gum, it was a deuced pleasant thing to have his clever fingertips dancing up my spine.

I would like to say I bore this with the dignity befitting a Wooster, but I'm sorry to say there were a few quiet noises of pleasure emitted. But lest you judge me, you just try putting yourself in my situation and see if you don't melt like a pat of butter left out in the sunshine. It'd take a stronger constitution than mine to resist such things, mark my words.

Speaking of butter, Jeeves reached into his pocket and retrieved a slender vial of some sort of massage oil–just the thing for this sort of activity. When he uncorked it and began working it into my muscles, all was corking, really. "Is that for the relaxation bit, Jeeves?" I asked dreamily. The oil was truly ducky. I knew Jeeves was a master of spirits and tonics, but I had no idea he worked in oils as well.

Jeeves paused. "Of course, sir. And oiling your wrists may help to work the handcuffs off."

Well, we tried that, but it just didn't work. I was stumped and disheartened, let me tell you. There was much wailing and gnasing of teeth, and there would have been pulling of hair except I couldn't reach and anyway, why muss the dandy locks in the name of drama?

"I have one last idea that might be of use," Jeeves said gravely.

"Well? What are you waiting for? On with it, man!" I ordered.

"Just as you say, sir," he replied agreeably.

What happened next, though, was rather less than agreeable. At least at first. It was rather wet and just a bit cold, at least until Jeeves' finger warmed up. I have to admit, I still don't know what the plan was, but I trusted him.

"Not working? Let's try another," he suggested.

Before I could protest, there were two fingers inside of me, and then three, and by then I was feeling strangely at home with the whole thing. You see, when Jeeves crooked his fingers _just so_, it was better than any magic Bingo Little could come up with.

"I'm afraid this is a sticky situation indeed, young sir," Jeeves told me. I hummed in ambivalence, content as long as his skillful fingers continued to slip and twist. Then, to my dismay, he removed them.

"Whaaaa?" I managed.

"I think greater measures shall have to be taken," he grunted.

Well, I think you could probably guess what happened next, and if you can't, then it's for your parents to tell you, or, if you're unlucky like me, one of your aunts. And that is a memory I wish hadn't surfaced just now, I must say.

In any case, soon there was thrusting and rolling and jolting, and even Jeeves got just a bit disheveled, don't you know. His hair was tickling my ear in the most delightful way, though it's nothing to what certain other bits of him were doing to certain other bits of me.

Then, at the height of splendour, I cried out, "Jeeves!" and, by george, those handcuffs popped right off.

Jeeves had done it again.

He was not quite his serene self as we sprawled there on the bed, sweaty and partly naked, but allowances must be made, especially in such dire circumstances.

I looked happily at the handcuffs now laying several feet away on the floor.

"Jeeves!" I crowed. "You're a corking magician!"

Already endeavouring to dress himself, Jeeves half-smiled as he straightened his tie, a process interrupted when I brushed his hand away, grabbed him by the tie, and kissed him firmly. Jeeves allowed this for a long moment before returning to his routine. He also permitted me to beam at him like a ruddy idiot. He even looked just a shade smug, the devil. "I do aim to please, sir," he said with quiet satisfaction.

"Well," I replied cheerfully. "I enjoyed your act a lot more than Bingo's. I do hope you'll pull it out again sometime. You'll have a willing audience," I added rakishly.

Jeeves looked vaguely amused. "Indeed," he said. "I think I can safely promise that I have _many _further tricks up my sleeve."


End file.
